


(In)Appropriate Uses of Police Property

by whatthehale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, 69 (Sex Position), Deupty!Derek, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PWP, Phone Sex, cop kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale/pseuds/whatthehale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Derek and Stiles use police things for sex and the one time they don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deputy's Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently writing smut is a good method of de-stressing. 
> 
> Beta'd by [laynacakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/laynacakes). Thank youuuu.

The first time Stiles sees Derek Hale in his deputy's uniform he goes from half asleep to fully awake and _painfully_ hard in about eight seconds flat.

And that, quite frankly, is _ridiculous_.

He’s twenty fucking years old, and really should be past the teenage ‘coming in your pants’ thing (seriously, one stroke and he’d be done for); especially since he and Derek have been sleeping together for a little under two years now.

But nope. There he is, in the apartment they share, laying in the bed they picked out together, on Derek’s first day working _for his dad_ unbelievably turned on by his boyfriend’s work clothes.

His boyfriend who, by the way, looks extremely unimpressed by the state of Stiles’s crotch right now.

Seriously, eyebrows have been raised, eyes have been rolled, and despite the slight blush on Derek’s cheeks, the man is _so not amused_.

Too bad anything and everything about Derek’s face does it for him.

Especially since Derek spent so many years glaring at him that it’s kind of become a conditioned response.

He crawls his way over to Derek who’s standing at the foot of the bed, wondering just how long he’s got before Derek needs to leave. Seriously, he really only needs a couple minutes. This is going to be over _embarrassingly_ quickly.

When Stiles reaches the end of the bed, Derek bends over and lifts his chin up slightly to put a soft, close-mouthed kiss on his lips and that’s so not what Stiles wants. He gets up on his knees, and the way Derek’s slumped against the edge of the bed makes their mouths almost level, and so he tilts his head at a slight angle and runs his tongue lightly along Derek’s lower lip. He wraps his right arm around Derek’s waist, and places his left just above Derek’s belt buckle, rubbing lightly because he knows that makes Derek crazy.

Derek leans back then, ignoring Stiles’s low whimper. “Fuck-Stiles, no. I have to leave in less than twenty minutes,” Oh man, that is _way more than enough_ time. “We are not starting anything right now. I just wanted to ask you if I looked okay.”

Stiles hooks his finger in Derek’s belt and moves the other one to tangle around his tie, pulling Derek back towards the bed and brushing their lips together  “Oh baby, you look fucking _perfect_.”

Derek kind of squirms backwards then, pulling his tie out of Stiles’s grip, “You’re going to wrinkle it!”

It’s Stiles’s turn to roll his eyes, “Why are you even wearing one of those? None of the other deputies do!”

Only to have Derek blush really adorably and mumble something that sounds like “Well, it was part of the uniform, so.”

God, his boyfriend is the fucking _cutest_.

Stiles sits down on the edge of bed then, spreading his legs so Derek can stand in between them, bringing their crotches in close contact with each other, and _yes!_ Derek’s got a little situation in his pants as well.

He just barely manages to refrain from any sort of comments about guns or batons and ‘being happy to see me’, figuring that while he’s got Derek distracted, he should take advantage.

Stiles is only wearing a very thin pair of boxer briefs, one of his oldest pairs and lifts his hips a little, grinding up into Derek. He grins when that manages to make Derek moan a little and then smiles even wider when Derek’s hands come down to cup his ass.

Stiles brings his hands up to Derek’s neck, criss-crossing his fingers where they meet, tangled in Derek’s hair and brings him back down for a sloppy kiss, mouths open and tongues tangling together. He keeps it up for a good thirty seconds and ends it by running just the very tip of his tongue along the roof of Derek’s mouth. He rewarded by _Derek’s_ hips bucking up this time, the grind of their dicks through a couple layers of clothing absolutely mind numbing.

He lays back on the bed then, bringing Derek down on top of him and moans when the starchy, stiff shirt Derek’s wearing rubs against his already sensitive nipples. Derek leans on his forearms above Stiles and grinds down harder then, finally fully hard, and Stiles bends his knees on either side of Derek’s hips and digs his heels into mattress, lifting himself further up into Derek.

Derek’s mouthing against his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, all the while keeping up the maddening slow grind of his hips and Stiles is _so fucking close_. He brings his hands slowly down from around Derek’s neck to trail lightly down his neck and chest, pinching his nipples lightly through the uniform shirt when he reaches them.

Derek moans at that, and grinds down more forcefully, his lips closing around Stiles’s nipple, sucking a bit as he flicks the tip of his tongue against it and Stiles is coming, possibly harder than he ever has before without his dick actually being touched.

He lays there, boneless for a second and totally sated as Derek continues to mouth along his chest and collarbones.

Once he manages to think straight though, he rolls them over and hovers above Derek as he unbuckles his belt and sticks his hand in Derek’s boxers, curling his fingers just under the head of Derek’s cock and slicking his thumb over the head, smearing pre-come everywhere.

He brings his lips back down on Derek’s, licking into his mouth with absolute zero finesse, but Derek doesn’t really seem to mind. It takes only a couple more strokes, fast and tight, before Derek’s coming messily, all over his shirt and a little on Stiles.

They lay there for a minute, Derek’s eyes closed and his head tilted up while Stiles attempts to give him a hickey just _barely_ under the collar of his uniform shirt.

Derek opens his eyes after a couple minutes, lifting up onto his elbows and groaning when he sees the mess they managed to make of his uniform.

“You’re a fucking _menace_ ,” he grits out finally, and Stiles does _not_ preen at the fondness in his voice.

Well, maybe he does a little.

He rolls onto his back then, satisfied with the mark he made on Derek’s neck, throwing his dirty boxers off the side of the bed and crawling under the covers.

“You have another one, don’t you?”

Derek gets up then and throws a pillow at Stiles’s face as he makes his way back to their closet, stripping as he goes.

Stiles takes a moment to admire the view as Derek gets fully naked just before grabbing his spare uniform.

“You keep your eyes fucking _shut_ this time until I’ve left the room.”

Stiles grins and covers his face with the pillow.

“Love you too, boo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: police scanner.


	2. Police Scanner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **From Stiles (1:38 pm):** _Turn the scanner to 105.3 fm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE GOING TO PRETEND that police scanners have multiple stations for deputies to use (like if they're on an undercover mission or something IDK) that Stiles has the capability of hacking into that feed.

Derek’s been a deputy for about a year now, and he can tell you that, without a doubt, the most boring, mind numbing job in the world is to sit in his squad car, hidden to cars on the highway and just _wait_ for someone to come speeding by. Seriously, it’s Beacon Hills. The only person in this town reckless enough to speed is _Stiles_ , and that particular problem is solved by the fact that Stiles’s car can barely go above 55 miles per hour.

And yes, okay, maybe there had been a time where he’d been young and stupid and in possession of a Camaro, and he’d been a little reckless as well.

But still. It’s not really an issue where the town’s other citizens are involved.

Anyways, he's particularly grumpy today because it's nearly his lunch break and sometimes, if he's lucky, Stiles will stop by with sandwiches from the deli by his campus. That’s not gonna happen today.

Stiles has been absolutely _frantic_ over his Master's thesis over the last couple weeks, holing up in their library or on campus or at a coffee shop, typing frantically away at his laptop and just basically ignoring Derek.

And he gets that this is important for Stiles's career, he _does_ , but he's just feeling a little neglected. It's been weeks since they've gone out or spent any real time together.

\--

He’s about twenty minutes into his lunch break, In-N-Out burger gone already, and he’s already on his way back to his post when he gets a message from Stiles. He knows Stiles is working at home todayand Derek had texted him earlier, asking if he wanted Derek to bring him a burger or something and he sighs. If he has to go over _now,_ he’ll be late getting back on shift. He pulls over into a small gravel path leading into the preserve, figuring that if Stiles really wants him to, he’ll go get something from him, even if it means he’ll be late.

He doesn’t look at his phone until he’s pulled over and the car is in park; despite what Stiles says, deputies cannot break the law any more than regular citizens can.

 **From Stiles (1:38 pm):** _Turn the scanner to 105.3 fm_

Well, that’s weird. He wipes his hands off on the _one_ napkin they had provided him with and turns the dial on the scanner, expecting to be met with static. That’s not a radio station as far as he knows.

Instead of static though, all he hears is a faint shuffling noise, and an even fainter creaking noise. He has no idea what to make of it until he hears the, “Derek, you here?” and he nearly jumps in his seat.

“What the fuck, Stiles?” he says, before he realizes that Stiles _can’t hear him back_ and he grabs his phone to text the exact same thing.

He hears a buzzing noise followed by a low chuckle a couple moments later and figures that Stiles saw his text.

“Hey baby,” Stiles says then, voice low and hoarse. “I’ve, uh, been thinking about doing this for awhile now, and I was so stressed out this morning, and I just needed to, uh, _de-_ stress.”

Derek groans. He’s a fan of his boyfriend being attracted to him, he _is_ , but Stiles really has a knack for picking some inopportune moments to initiate sexy times. And embarrassing as it is, Derek is totally helpless to do anything but go along with it. Stiles has _barely_ said anything suggestive, but the way his voice is pitched low and soft is enough to make Derek half hard in his pants. He figures that that’s _exactly_ what Stiles was planning and even though he only has about twelve minutes left before his break ends, he can’t bring himself to change the station.

He does however, switch his personal mic off, hoping like hell no one heard Stiles through it. He’s wondering errantly how exactly Stiles managed this, how he hacked one of the police radio frequencies but then again Stiles has been around police paraphernalia his whole life. He just hopes this isn’t one that anyone else ever uses. He can’t really dwell on it anymore, and nor does he want to, especially when Stiles starts talking again.

“So you wanna know what I did, babe?” He hears a shuffling noise followed a low pant, and then what sounds like the slick slide of skin on skin. He’s suddenly a _lot_ harder, and his pants have tightened considerably. He palms his crotch lightly, barely relieving himself any and waits for whatever Stiles is about to do next.

“I thought about you. Thought about _you_ in your _fucking uniform_ , sitting there, frowning at everyone who drove past, sticking your lips out in a pout and _fuck_. I almost drove down there, totally would have if my car wasn't in the shop."

He hears the pop of a cap then, and groans, listening to Stiles squirt some lube out and then the slick sounds of what's probably Stiles rubbing his fingers together.

He slouches low in his seat then, hoping like hell no one drives by and sees him idling by the side of the road and unbuckles his belt, unzipping his fly probably faster than is safe. He slides his hand slowly under the waistband of his boxers and then back up, scratching lightly over his abs and and he groans, wishing they were Stiles's hands.

"I started thinking about how I'd convince you to drive into the preserve and-- _fuck_ ," Stiles is breathing hard now and Derek slowly wraps his hand around his cock, moaning lightly. "Thought about--thought about dragging you out of the car and pushing you up against the hood or a tree and just dropping to my knees and--well, you get the idea."

Derek moans then, and stops holding back, palming the head of his dick to smear pre-come everywhere, making it easier to stroke tight and fast.

"And then baby? Right when you're about to come I'd fuck-" Stiles's breathing is ragged now and he lets out a shuddering moan before continuing, "I'd flip us around so it was me against the tree and you holding me up against it and I'd already be open and wet enough for you to just _slide right in."_

Derek thrusts up into his own hand then, imagining that it’s Stiles, picturing Stiles there with him, surrounding him completely.

"Got four fingers inside me right now, Der. 'M on my knees on our bed pretendin' i's you. Can't wait 'til you get home t'night." Stiles sounds _drunk_ now, slurring over his words and Derek can just imagine him bent over on the bed, head facing the side with pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed.

He speeds up his movements then, twisting his wrist slightly, fingers tight around the base and loosening as he strokes upwards.

"Hope you're close Der, cuz I'm gonna come soon." Stiles is whispering now and Derek can _hear_ through the radio the slick slapping sounds as Stiles fucks himself on his fingers.

"Fuck, _Derek_ ," Stiles chokes out finally, groaning loud and drawn out and Derek sucks his bottom lip between his teeth then, biting lightly like Stiles loves to and shuts his eyes, wondering what Stiles looks like right now. Derek can almost picture him slumped over on his stomach high off his orgasm, smiling slack jawed, eyes hooded and lips red from where he'd been biting them.

"I made a total mess of the sheets Der," he says about thirty seconds later and Derek snorts, picturing Stiles laying on _their_ bed, covered in lube and come, grinning despite the mess. "Come on baby, you're close right? _Come for me, deputy_."

And, well, Derek's never really been capable of saying no to Stiles. The command is enough to tip him over the edge, hips bucking up as he comes messily in his boxers.

He wipes his sticky hand on his boxers as well and _fuck_ he's going to have to go the rest of his shift commando. He texts Stiles as much, knowing it'll make him _crazy._

He hears the low buzz of Stiles's phone and then, "Fuuuuuck Der, really? God I'm ready to go another round already."

He snorts, tucking his dick into his pants and promptly changes the scanner station back to the main station feed.

**To Stiles (2:01pm):** _hold on to that thought babe. I'm home at 6. Expect payback. ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Handcuffs ;)


	3. Handcuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s what you get for making me come in my pants at work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct continuation of the last chapter.
> 
> \--
> 
> This just gets dirtier and dirtier. Please make note of the new tags before reading so nothing squicks you out?

When Derek gets home that day, instead of hanging up his ‘cuffs next to his work belt, he slips them into the front pocket of his jeans before making his way into his and Stiles’s room.

The house is dead silent and he’s a little surprised--he was half expecting Stiles to jump him the minute he walked through the door and he’s _really_ hoping Stiles is home and didn’t get a ride from someone to the library. He’s been thinking about and looking forward to this _all day._

He makes his way over to their bedroom, figuring that if Stiles isn’t home he can maybe get in a quick shower and a nap before they get to what he has planned. When he reaches the room however, he grins. Turns out Stiles _is_ home after all.

\--

Stiles wakes up to the scratch of stubble against his collarbone and light butterfly kisses along his sternum. He looks down and Derek’s (surprisingly soft) hair brushes lightly against the underside of his jaw, making him groan lightly. It’s totally a sensitive spot for him and he brings his hands down to tangle in Derek’s hair encouragingly.

Except.

He can’t.

He opens his eyes and realizes that he’s laying on the bed, on his back, and Derek’s on top of him, laying on his stomach between Stiles's legs, naked and mouthing at his chest.

And-yep, that’s definitely not Derek’s _gun_ poking into his thigh.

He looks up, trying to figure out why he can’t _move his arms_ only to see them handcuffed to the headboard. _Fuck_ he forgot how much he liked that.

“You _handcuffed me_ to our headboard?” Dammit, he doesn’t even sound mad _._ Just really, really turned on.

And Derek knows it too, given the way he lifts his head up and smirks before dipping back down to tongue Stiles’s nipple.

Which, _fuck_. That’s not helping the situation any. Stiles shifts as much as he can, squirming under Derek until he stops, lifting his head to grin cheekily at Stiles.

“I did. Do you have a problem with it?”

Stiles doesn’t. Derek _knows_ he doesn’t. Stiles doesn’t have a gun so Derek knows exactly what’s poking _his_ thigh.

Still, he’s not about to let Derek get the upper hand here.

“Yes. I do.” Derek raises his eyebrows in a patented _Really Stiles?_ look but reaches over to the bedside table where Stiles can just barely make out the silver glint of the key.

He sighs, “Wait.”

Derek looks back at him, the picture of exaggerated innocence and _fuck_ Stiles is never going to hear the end of this. At that moment though, with Derek’s thigh brushing against his dick and Derek’s hand barely touching his hip, he _really_ couldn't care less. “Yes, Stiles?”

Derek’s on the verge of a smirk he knows it, but he can’t deny that he’s crazy hard, almost as turned on as he was when he first saw Derek in the deputy’s uniform.

“I guess…” Stiles blows out a breath, puffing his cheeks out and pursing his lips, ”I _guess_ they’re not so bad.”

Derek leans back over him, still firmly in between Stiles’s legs and scoots down a bit so his abs are now brushing against Stiles’s fully hard cock. He grins, “Tell me what you want.”

It’s not even a debate right now, “Kiss me.”

Derek beams and bends down, kissing just Stiles’s lower lip lightly, before sucking it in between his teeth and running his tongue along the length of it. Stiles moans, but lifts his head up--he wants a _proper_ kiss thank you very much.

Derek seems to get the hint though, and comes back, mouth open and there’s no other word for it--fucks his tongue into Stiles’s mouth, licking _everywhere_ as he strokes his hands down Stiles’s sides and slides them under Stiles’s body, kneading and cupping his buttcheeks.

And, _“Yes._ Fuck Der-,” he moans through the kiss because that’s _exactly_ what he wanted. He’s leaking now, soaking the front of his boxers but can’t even bring his hands down to take them off. Derek moves off his lips, placing sucking, biting kisses along his jaw and then down his neck to his collarbones, moving back up periodically to lick soothingly over the bites.

He’s thrusting his hips up in aborted movements, rubbing up against Derek’s abs and, _seriously_? He’s been awake for like five minutes, how is he this close to coming already?

Derek’s moves his hand from Stiles’s ass to curl around his hips, halting his movements and he groans. Derek’s back to sucking a hickey at his collarbone and Stiles concentrates on that for a moment; letting the pleasure-pain feeling of the bites bring him down from the edge.

Once Derek’s satisfied with his mark, Stiles schools his face into more of a glare, and Derek barks out a laugh when he looks up, eyes blown wide so there’s the just the faintest ring of gorgeous green irises around dark pupils.

“Need something, Stiles?” _Yes_. He needs to _come_.

“Touch me.” Derek loosens his grip around Stiles’s hips then, and brushes his thumb lightly along Stiles’s hip bone. It’s a light, fleeting touch, maddening and _not enough_.

“I _am_ touching you Stiles.” Derek bends down then and licks a line down Stiles’s sternum to his belly button and then noses at the hair just under it. Stiles bucks up involuntarily but Derek’s hands manage to keep him laying firmly against the bed and _fuck_ _him_ for being so strong.

Stiles _glares_ at him, and Derek laughs but _finally_ hooks his fingers under Stiles’s now soaked boxers and pulls them off.

“Touch me _more_.” Derek leans up to kiss him lightly on the lips then, and straddles Stiles’s waist, fingers coming up to trail lightly along the underside of Stiles’s arms. Stiles moans, _fuck_ , who even knew that was a sensitive spot?

Derek’s eyes are hooded and Stiles can tell he’s staring at his mouth and he smirks. _Two can play the teasing game._

He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth and chews on it for a sec, fist pumping internally when Derek’s dick twitches where it’s resting against Stiles’s navel.

Derek leans down, forearms bracketing Stiles’s head. “I’ll touch you if you touch me,” he says huskily, and he licks along Stiles’s now swollen bottom lip.

Derek lifts up on to his knees then, and brings them both to one side of Stiles, crawling towards the head of the bed, and Stiles _thinks_ he knows where this is going. They’ve only ever done this like twice before, and it’s going to be interesting without the use of his hands.

His guess is proven right when all of a sudden Stiles has got a face full of _Derek’s butt_ and man, that’s a sight he’ll never tire of.  

Stiles brings his head up off the pillow to bite one of the cheeks gently and is rewarded by a small groan on Derek’s end and then Derek’s tongue is licking up his shaft.

Derek shifts back a little, so now it’s his cock in Stiles’s face, and well, that’s almost as good a sight. Stiles runs his tongue along the slit, gathering up a bead of pre-come and moans against it when Derek sucks the head of Stiles’s cock into his mouth.

Derek shifts a little then, fully sucking down Stiles’s cock, nose nudging against his balls as he slips a finger into Stiles where he’s still open and _way_ wet from that morning. He runs his tongue along the shaft as he moves up, leaning against Stiles’s thigh for a second as he adds another finger alongside the first.

“Fuck Stiles, still so wet for me.” He says, low and hoarse before he’s swallowing Stiles down again, bobbing light and wet, fingers still fucking slowly into Stiles as his cheeks hollow around Stiles’s dick.

Stiles grins against Derek’s thigh and places a quick kiss against it and then turns his head to run sloppy wet kisses along Derek’s shaft, sucking lightly everytime he gets to the head.

They stay like that for about a minute, but then Derek brushes the pads of his fingers firmly against his prostate, and not even ten seconds later, Stiles is fucking up into Derek’s mouth and coming down his throat.

Derek lifts off with a quick kiss to Stiles’s knee and then turns around, grabbing the ‘cuff keys off the side table and freeing Stiles’s hands.

Stiles immediately grabs his boyfriend's hips and maneuvers him so that Derek is sitting on Stiles’s chest, fucking into his mouth as Stiles digs his fingers into Derek’s ass, middle finger just barely brushing against Derke’s rim.

Derek doesn’t even thrust twice before he’s coming, hot and wet on Stiles’s tongue and he closes his lips around Derek’s head and sucks until he’s whimpering from overstimulation.

Derek scoots down, then, back into the position he’d been in when Stiles had woken up--sprawled over him like a blanket and kisses Stiles on the nose before tucking his head under Stiles’s chin.

“That’s what you get for making me come in my pants at work.”

Stiles grins and _finally_ gets to tangle his hands in Derek’s hair like he’d wanted to originally, wrapping his arms loosely around Derek’s shoulders.

“Guess I’m gonna have to do that again sometime.”

Derek stills, realizing the implications of what he just said.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Squad car.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically an exercise in smut writing as practice for my longer fics. I am pretty new to writing smut so please keep that in mind during any (hopefully constructive) criticism. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://hoechlinseverything.tumblr.com).


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